


Happy Ending

by MaxBetta



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern AU, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 04:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15549852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxBetta/pseuds/MaxBetta
Summary: At the urging of his friend Bronn, Sandor visits a seedy massage parlor with the intent of receiving a “happy ending.” He has a change of heart, however, after seeing his masseuse.





	Happy Ending

He was standing at the reception desk, so there was no turning back now. Sandor drummed his thick, calloused fingers nervously on the marble counter, the secretary taking her sweet time to assign him a room. It was just last week that Bronn had convinced him to give a massage parlor a try.

 

Three years had passed since Sandor had last been with a woman. He had gone on deployment in the Gulf War, and was one of the lucky ones who came back alive. The burn scars that covered half of his face were a constant reminder of the fact that he almost didn’t make it. The scars. Nothing had been the same since he came home, everything was different. Women no longer flirted with him. In fact, most were disgusted by his appearance. He had tried dating apps and websites, but nobody was interested. To add insult to injury, a woman once messaged him on a dating site to ask if she could interview him for an article she was writing about people with deformities. It had become painfully clear that dating was not a possibility anymore. Nobody could look past his appearance, and nobody cared to. Going that long without a woman's company had put Sandor in a position where he was in desperate need of relief. He had considered, briefly, paying for a prostitute, but just couldn’t bring himself to do it. That was when Bronn, his lifelong best friend, chimed in with the massage parlor idea. He rationalized that it wasn’t the same thing as hiring a prostitute  because, “Anything you could do yourself doesn’t count.” Therefore, a handjob was not “real” sex.

 

“Alright sir, you’re in room 3B, third door on the left.”

 

Sandor made his way down the dark hallway and entered his assigned room. He removed his clothing and laid face down on the massage table, covering his backside with a single white sheet. So far, so good. If everything went as planned, Sandor would get the back of his body massaged, then he would flip over and scratch his chin three times, indicating that he was interested in their “special” services.

 

He heard someone enter the room and close the door. The lights dimmed, spa music began to play throughout the room, and he became aware of the scent of pink grapefruit. Looking down through the hole in the massage table, he could see a pair of small fair-skinned feet with perfectly painted toenails.

 

“Hello, I’m Sansa, I’ll be doing your massage today. Just relax and we’ll get started.”

 

He could feel warm oil being applied to his back, and then a pair of delicate hands began kneading his shoulders.   It felt so good to be touched. She moved down his back, slowly taking care to release the tension from each muscle group. After his back, she moved on to his buttocks, followed by the backs of his thighs and calves, before asking him to flip over. He did as she asked, and was met with a vision of the most exquisite woman he’d ever seen in his life. She was sweet looking, probably in her late twenties, and she had fiery red hair tied back in a ponytail. Her radiant blue eyes were captivating. He was entranced. He immediately forgot the plan, but it didn’t matter. After seeing her, he wouldn’t have gone through with it anyway. She was too good, too perfect. He couldn’t do that to her. She deserved better.

 

On the front of his body, she worked her way up from the bottom, starting with his feet. She was working on the area between his knees and his upper thighs when she noticed a large wrinkle in the sheet. After a couple of failed attempts to pull it taut, it became clear that it was not a wrinkle, but an erection. Her eyes flashed to his for just a second before he nervously turned his head the other way.

 

“S--sorry. I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat.

 

“Oh, it’s alright. It happens. Sometimes people, um, get really relaxed.”

 

Sansa started massaging his hands, noticing how hairy and veined and wonderfully masculine they were. Moving along his arms, his biceps felt rock hard beneath her touch, barely giving in at all when she kneaded them. Finally, she was at his chest. She applied more oil to her hands and then pressed them to him, working in a circular motion, her hands gliding over his sinewy form. As her breathing increased and a warm flush came to her face, Sansa realized that she was getting turned on. A flash of a vision appeared in her mind, her on top of him, looking down upon his face, his steel grey eyes fixed on her, wanting her. She could feel his muscles beneath her, envision both of them naked and writhing all over one another like animals. She glanced up at him to see that he was staring back at her. Could he know what she was thinking? She quickly removed her hands from him and took a step back, willing herself into the present.

 

“Um, I think we’re done here. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

 

Sandor nodded. Sansa walked over to the small sink in the room and washed the oil from her hands, then excused herself and left.

 

Sandor dressed and checked out at the front counter, leaving a generous tip. He exited and was mere steps from his vehicle when a small hand gently touched his shoulder. He turned around to see that it was Sansa, the gorgeous masseuse.

 

“Sorry to bother you, I was just wondering...do you have a girlfriend?”

 

Sandor shook his head, “No.”

 

“Well then, I’m not supposed to do this, you being a customer and all...but perhaps we could meet for dinner sometime?”

 

He looked as if he had just seen a ghost. “You want to have dinner with _me_?”

 

“Yes, if that’s alright.” She was looking at him for any sign at all that he was interested.

 

“Uh...okay,” was all he managed to get out in such a surprising turn of events.

 

Sansa handed him a slip of paper she’d already prepared with her name and number.

 

“I have to go, my next client is waiting, but...I’m off Thursdays and Sundays.” She flashed him a genuine, sweet smile and ran back inside.

 

Sandor stood there, still in shock. Entering his car, he put the key in the ignition and sat there a moment, deep in thought. His phone rang and he looked at the screen to see that it was Bronn calling. _Nosy bastard._

 

“Hey Bronn, what’s up?”

 

“Just checking in, mate. Just checking in. How’d the massage go?”

 

Sandor released a deep sigh of satisfaction. “Perfect.”


End file.
